


#JustCloneThings

by kaitatatertot



Category: Battleborn (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Repression, Gen, Headcanon, References to Sex, actual dudes being bros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 01:59:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9214079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaitatatertot/pseuds/kaitatatertot
Summary: Subtitled: Kait really loves the Clone boys and has a lot of headcanons.Just writing this as I go along. lmao shoot me.





	1. Chapter 1

Solus was safe. For now. Rendain had been launched into Varelsi space and for once in everyone’s life, they could breathe.

And drink. A lot.

Count on the Rogues for somehow managing to build a still out of scrap minion parts and keeping the booze flowing for everyone (well, everyone allowed to actually drink). And with drinking came slurred speech, half-coherent jokes, and games. Specifically “Never Have I Ever”.

Several of the Badasses sat down in the middle of the common room each with their own glass (or glasses). 

“Okay...Okay. Never have I ever, kissed a bot.” Benedict started, surprisingly harmlessly.

Phoebe took a drink, no one was surprised.

“Very well...Never have I ever--”

“Hey guys! What’cha playin’?” Oscar Mike interrupted.

There was a silence for a moment, everyone else exchanged awkward glances before Montana spoke up.

“Never have I ever Mikey! You’ve played it before!” 

“Oh! Cool! Now I have an excuse to drink whatever the hell Pendles put in my hand.” Oscar Mike laughed and held up his glass with a curly straw. The younger clone took a seat next to his towering friend and wiggled in place.

“Anyways. As I was saying. Never have I ever faked an orgasm!” Phoebe giggled.

“You must be easy to please.” Reyna snickered as she took a long gulp.

“Or I just have good partners and toys~” The scientist chided back.

Both Deande and Thorn took their sips in silence.

“Wait. Deande? Have you--” Whiskey started.

“No! No! Not with you! I jus--”

SLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURP

Everyone looked over at Oscar Mike who had the curly straw tucked under his helmet.

Montana had a look of extreme discomfort on his face, “Er...Mikey you...Didn’t have to take a drink.”

“What and  _ lie _ ? Monty you know I don’t like to lie.” Oscar said, a little less chipper than usual.

“I never thought he had it in him.” Deande chuckled.

“It’s...Not an uncommon thing in the RDC Dea…” Whiskey muttered to the spymistress. 

“Wh--”

“Guys it’s cool. Delta was just taking too long and I was getting tired of it.” Oscar cut in.

Now everyone was staring, their expressions ranging from horror to curiosity to confusion.

“Yeah, it’s not an uncommon thing. Sex was just another part of Clone Life. Come back from a long mission? F*ck it out. Higher ups stressing you out? Find a friend and sneak to the showers for a bit. Bored because you’re on a temp leave but don’t feel like jerkin’ it? Someone else probably feels the same way.” Whiskey explained.

There was a collective ‘oh’ from the group.

“No emotion, no heart, one and done. That was the rule.” Oscar mumbled.

One by one the others slowly got up and left to go drink elsewhere. Not really wanting to hang around after the information dropped on them, leaving the two clone alone.

“It’s better when you’re out of the RDC Mike. You’re allowed to get attached. To feel.” Whiskey slung an arm over his younger friend.   
“Good. I like feeling.”


	2. In the Joints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just...Have a lot of feelings guys.

Mornings sucked for everyone, but especially for Whiskey. While Deande was already up and out of his room before one of the other Rogues came running in for whatever reason, he was still lying there, elbows aching like they had been broken thrice over. Ever since the ship had taken to orbiting around Bliss, his joints had been all but screaming at him. It was times like this he wished he would have taken some more of the RDC’s medical supplies before making his great escape. Looked like he would have to talk to Pendles about finding some sort of painkiller for it, or better yet if he had a supplier for even a knock off serum to keep the implants from aching.

Whiskey attempted to roll over, but his metal spine protested with a sharp shooting pain that ran up to his head. 

“Ugh. Feels like a blizzard.” The clone growled as Constable Cuddles hopped up onto his bed and licked his face.

“Foxtrot.” Reyna called over his comm.

“Yeah Boss?” Whiskey replied as he slowly pulled the communicator off his nightstand.

“Takin’ the kids out to the Markets. Wanna come?”

“Can’t, blizzard’s got my metal all f*cked.”

Reyna hummed, “I’ll have Pendles keep an eye out for some UPR finds.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem, try to at least get a good soak in if you can.”

“Is that an order?” Whiskey laughed.

“Not tod--Orendi! Get that out of your mouth!”

The comm went dead. Leaving the Foxtrot Unit alone again with his thoughts. He spent several minutes just opening and closing his fist, trying to judge how bad this weather had messed him up.

Turns out, pretty bad. 

Every flex of his tendons ached dully in his wrist, and when he dared to move his arm, another sharp pain wracked his muscles.

“Clones ain’t meant to last long.” He sighed as his new dog nestled against his ribs.

He knew this wasn’t the end for him, not by a long shot, but it sure as hell did remind him of his own mortality. 

24 years. That was the longest a clone had ever lived. There was something depressing in the fact that if he was a normal human he would probably be graduating a university, maybe settled down, and not aching like Kleese on a rainy day! 

He sighed deeply and slowly began moving, doing his best to ignore the agony he was putting himself through. His legs felt like fire as he shuffled them from under the blankets and finally touched his feet to the floor. With another long, agonizing groan, Whiskey finally sat himself up and all but screamed as his entire body stung like he had been attacked by a swarm of cazadores. 

However he kept his jaw clenched to prevent himself from screaming like a little bitch. 

Which worked up until he stood up. This time the pain was unreal. His legs felt like the very bones had been fractured up to his pelvis where his metal spine met bone that practically shot needles through his nervous system.

He screamed as he crumpled to the floor. Constable Cuddles made a beeline for the door and bolted out into the rest of the ship.

“F*ckin’ dog.” The clone growled and attempted to work his way back up with little success. Looked like he was going to be stuck on the floor for a while then. And  _ this _ cold was not helping either. 

“F*ck this. F*ck it all. I’m so goddamn done with this sh*t.” He continued to grumble.

_ BARK! BARK BARK! _

The sound of his dog running back drew his attention to the sliding door.

“Hey Whiskey, I know you don’t like me coming over but--HOLY CRAP!” Oscar Mike exclaimed as he walked inside.

“...F*ck.”

Oscar paced around the fallen clone for a moment then reached into his side pouch, removing a small syringe. 

“Hah, this weather huh? Really gets you, right?” Oscar weakly chuckled as he knelt down next to his friend.

“...Yeah.” Whiskey mumbled.

“You know how this works and all. Just a pinch, then a little stinging, then the--”

“Mike.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and stick the f*ckin’ needle in.”

Whiskey huffed as he felt the cool metal slide under his skin and in an instant all of his pain was replaced with the sensation of needles, then...nothing. Looked like Mike still had his hands on some of the regulation stuff. With a deep breath and a long exhaling groan, Whiskey pushed himself back up to his feet.

“A-Are you okay now? I mean, you’re always okay and...like--”

“Mike, it’s good. I’m good. Thanks.” Whiskey patted the other clone on the shoulder.

“Cool! I um...I know there was a drop zone for the serum on Ocoban, there’s still some there and stuff just...fyi. I don’t really go back unless I really really need to. But yeah if you need anymore I have a lot left. Cause y’know. It’s in the joints. And it really sucks and sometimes it makes you wanna cry and--”

“Mike.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and get out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Probably my most unpopular HC. That Oscar is not a virgin.


End file.
